Chapter 9

It was deep dark by the time Frayne pulled away from the clinic. We’d run out of my house with just the clothes on our backs, and now the brutal January cold impaled us with its harsh and ruthless bite. Neither of us said a word on the ride home. In truth, I was exhausted. Emotionally, physically, hell, even spiritually. I don’t know if I could have answered anything he asked me with more than a yes or no reply, if that.

Shelby’s tech had given me back the afghan I’d wrapped George in. I held it in my arms as we drove, its warmth doing nothing to soothe my soul or the chill seeping through my bones.

Frayne pulled into my garage and parked. We’d left in such a hurry we hadn’t closed the door. I hadn’t taken my purse, or my phone, or anything, in my haste to get George attended to.

The warmth of the kitchen enveloped me as soon as I came through the door.

George’s doggie bed sat under the table, the cushion rumpled, the empty turkey baster lying next to it. I bit back a sob right as Frayne started talking to someone.

“Cathy.” Maureen flew into the kitchen, dropped a shopping bag on the floor, and then pulled me into her arms. My head fell against her shoulder as she squeezed me in a full body hug.

“What—what are you doing here?”

“Mac called us,” Colleen said as she slipped her arms around me from behind. “We came as soon as we heard.”

I lifted my gaze and found him. He looked…unsure. Maybe even a little embarrassed. I’d told him I didn’t need anyone, but he’d called my sisters regardless.

“We didn’t want you to be alone,” Maureen said. “We know how much you love George. We do, too.”

That was Maureen, the perceptive one.

“Yeah,” Colleen, added. “He’s the only nephew we have.”

And that was Colleen, the say-it-plain-and-simple one.

I glanced at her over my shoulder. “Nephew?”

She shrugged. “You know what I mean. George is family.”

Tears threatened. I willed them back.

“Don’t do that,” Maureen said.

“Do what?”

“Suck it up.”

Perceptive, remember? I stared at her, trying to keep my face expressionless.

“You don’t have to,” she added. “We know how hard losing George is for you. That’s why we came.” She swiped her hands down my arms, her eyes soft and caring as she regarded me. “You’re always the one who stays strong, who comforts the rest of us when we’re upset.”

“You’re always the rock,” Colleen added.

I lifted my shoulder in a “so what?” gesture.

“It’s your turn for us to be that for you. You don’t need to hold it together. Not for us.”

“Yeah.” Colleen nodded. “Let us, for once, take care of you. Maureen brought food, ’cause it’s what she does. I brought wine and chocolate.”

I turned around to her again. “ ’Cause it’s what you do?”

A perfect smile filled her face.

“Don’t you have guests to tend to?” I asked Mo.

“Sarah’s looking after everything, no worries. We’re here, and we’re staying.”

She might be quiet and keep her thoughts hidden more times than not, but I’ve always thought Maureen was the most determined and resolute of us.

“I love you guys, I do, but I’m fine.”

“Cath—”

“Really.” I squeezed Maureen’s hands to underscore the point. “I’m sad, of course. Heartbroken, to be truthful. But Shelby was right. I didn’t want to lose George, and I kept him alive longer than either of us expected because I didn’t want to let him go. What I did was selfish.”

“I don’t think it was,” Maureen said. “I think it showed how much he meant to you. And you know he loved you.”

“Boy, did he ever.” Colleen shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Loyal. Sweet. He followed you everywhere, and every time he looked at you, it was as if you hung the moon for him. If he’d been a guy, he’d have been perfect.”

I shook my head again. She was right.

I pulled both of them in for side-hugs. “I’m glad you guys are here. Thanks for coming.”

“Of course we came,” Maureen said. “You’re our big sister, and we adore you. Now, when was the last time you ate?”

My gaze drifted over her shoulder to Frayne. He was propped against the kitchen counter, much the way he’d been in Shelby’s office, with his arms crossed over his chest, his glasses slung from the collar of his sweatshirt.

“Actually, I was starting to make supper when George…well. We’d been working all afternoon.”

Both my sisters turned their attention to Frayne at the same time. The tops of his cheeks darkened under their intense scrutiny.

Maureen cocked her head at an angle. She could be my grandmother’s clone when she did this. When all of us were younger and Nanny Fee put her all-knowing, penetrating, you-can’t-lie-to-me expression on her face, we’d confess to anything and everything whether we’d done something naughty or not. It seemed Nanny’s powers had passed down to Mo.

“Well, good thing I brought enough food to feed us all.”

“Slade’s gonna be here in a few,” Colleen said. “I texted him when we were on the way, and he said he’d meet us here when he was done with a conference call.”

The back doorbell chimed, and without anyone answering it, Lucas Alexander walked into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he said, by way of greeting, to the room. His eyes grazed over Maureen, settled for a moment, then moved to me. Mo moved out of the way so he could hug me.

“Sorry about George, Cathy. The old guy had a good life.”

“How do you even know?” I asked, my voice muffled against his massive chest.

“Shelby’s tech, Marnie. She’s seeing Pete and called the station to tell him she’d be a little late for their date. Since it was you, Pete told me.”

“The curse and blessing of living in a small town,” I said, with a shake of my head. Lucas let me go, and I stood back from him a bit.

“Including all your dirty little secrets,” Colleen said. She was opening the wine bottle she’d brought. “Not that you have any. Or any of us do. But still.”

“Knock, knock.”

The kitchen door opened again, and Colleen’s face broke into a cheek-wide grin filled with adoration as her fiancé walked in.

He graced her with a loving look, then grabbed me in a hug. “Counselor. My condolences.”

God, I loved these people, this family.

“Well, since everyone’s here,” Maureen said, “let’s eat. Who’s starving?”

“I am,” Lucas said, as he removed his coat.

“You’re always starving,” Mo shot back with an eye roll mimicking Colleen’s to perfection.

“What’s all this crap?” my middle sister called from the dining room. “There’s a ton of junk on the table.” She walked back into the kitchen, the open wine bottle in one hand, napkins in the other, a look of bemusement on her face.

My gaze shot to Frayne.

“It’s stuff we found in Nanny’s storage locker. All that crap”—I shot my younger sister a speaking glance—“is Robert Heaven’s personal effects. Nanny gave Mr. Frayne permission to go through it all to see if any of it was appropriate for the museum.”

“Oh, good Lord,” Colleen said. “I’d forgotten all about poor Robert.”

“Who’s Robert?” Slade asked.

My two sisters clued him in while Frayne caught my eye and gave me follow me head bob.

We walked out of the kitchen and in to the hallway.

“I’m gonna head back to the inn,” he told me, his hands shoved in his pockets again. He cocked his chin toward the dining room. “Your family is here now, and I’m intruding.”

“No, you’re not.”

The look he shot me was doubtful.

I reached out and wrapped one of my hands around his forearm. He jumped.

“I don’t know how I would have gotten through the past few hours without your help. I really don’t.” I shook my head and dropped my chin to my chest. The sight of Frayne’s old, worn, and battered sneakers shot straight to my heart. I looked back into his eyes.

“Please stay. If for no other reason than I promised you a meal after all the work we did today, and Maureen’s cooking is way better than my grilled cheese would have been.”

Indecision ran across his face. He tucked his chin as he regarded me from under brows that had lowered to half conceal his eyes. “You don’t need to do that, Cathy. I can grab something to eat on my way back at the inn.”

Before I could respond, Maureen popped into the hallway.

“Hey, we need guidance about where to put all Robert’s stuff. Colleen’s about to shove everything back into boxes to make room for the food. She hasn’t eaten anything today, and you know how she gets when she’s food deprived.”

She ducked back into the kitchen.

“Well, now you have to stay,” I said, nodding. “Or all the work we did this afternoon will be ruined. Colleen takes no prisoners when she’s hangry.”

One corner of his mouth lifted up, and those tiny lines in the corners of his eyes deepened.

I squeezed his arm, and when I turned to go, he stopped me.

I glanced down at the hand circling my arm and then up to his face. He’d gone back to being serious.

“I want to say…to tell you…” He swallowed and, like a magnet shunting to true north, my body moved in closer to him.

His gaze darted across my face, searching, seeking. For what, I haven’t a clue.

“I’m…I’m sorry…about George.”

I wasn’t convinced it was what he’d meant to say, but I didn’t push. “Thank you. Again, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here to help.”

“Hey, let’s go.” Colleen’s voice rang out clear as a crystal bell with none of the musical beauty from the dining room. “I want to eat.”

I couldn’t help but laugh because, this was after all, typical Colleen. “Come on.” I grabbed Frayne’s hand and tugged.

When he shook his head and grinned, a warm, liquid pleasure shot straight through me.

****

In the end, he didn’t stay. Nothing Maureen, me, or anyone else said could convince him to. With a final word of condolence, and a request to text when I was up to going through all the locker boxes again, he left.

After being fed and petted and cared for by my family, I’d gone to bed for the very first time in this house, alone. No husband. No dog. When I was huddled down under the covers, I let my grief loose and cried until I had no tears left to shed.

My life was nothing like I’d envisioned it would be at this age. Widowed, childless, lonely for the comfort and love of a man by my side. No happily ever after, no lifetime companion. I had myself a real pity-party for one while I lay there, staring up at the ceiling and letting my tears flow without issue. In the span of three short years, I’d lost my husband, a sister, a dog who meant more to me than most people did, and—by virtue of their decampment south—my parents. How do people soldier on when they’re faced with such insurmountable loss?

With exhaustion gripping me, I finally fell asleep.

When I lifted my head from the pillow and shielded my eyes from the harsh, stark light shining through my bedroom window curtain, I groaned. In a heartbeat came the realization George was gone. Determined not to let my sadness overtake me again, I did something Nanny Fee has instructed often when we’ve had to deal with issues we’d rather not: I girded my loins. As a kid, I hadn’t a clue what she’d meant.

As a grown-ass woman, I had a fairly good idea.

Okay, in reality? I closed my eyes again, took a whopping deep breath, and then let it out, super slow. There. Emotions in check, thoughts calmed. Almost ready to start the day.

An hour later, showered, two mugs of caffeine on board, and with half a scone Maureen left in my fridge devoured, I drove to Seldrine’s house to pick her up for her meeting.

She’d heard about George from Nanny after Colleen had called our grandmother to tell her.

Remember the curse and the blessing of living in a small town?

“I’m really sorry, Cathy. I feel bad you have to drive me every day. I wish Judge Dupont hadn’t made you do it.”

“No worries,” I said. “This way we get a chance to chat about how things are going. How are your kids? They all settled in at your folks’?”

A deep breath huffed from her. “The kids are confused. They keep asking why can’t they come home, sleep in their own beds. I tell them this is like sleep-away camp only with Grandma and Grandpa instead of counselors. It’s a special treat, but I don’t think they’re buying it. Especially Cullen.”

Seldrine’s four children ranged in age from four years to nine, Cullen the oldest.

“He’s a smart kid, Sel. And he remembers what life was like with Cam.”

“Too much so. In the beginning, after Cam got locked up, Cullen wouldn’t go to sleep. He’d be exhausted and cranky but pushed to stay awake as long as he could.”

“Why?”

“He told me he was worried Daddy was gonna come home and start hitting me again. He wanted to protect me.”

“Oh, sweetie.” I reached across the cab of my car and squeezed her hand.

Seldrine’s free hand slammed down on mine. “I’m wicked pissed at myself for allowing Cam’s letter to get to me. For ever taking a drink. I just wanted to…run away. Someplace he wouldn’t be able to find me, torture me. I was only thinking about myself, about my pain, my fears. I never considered what it’d do to the kids and their lives. And look where being selfish got me. I might lose my kids. Christ. I’m such a loser.”

“Stop saying things like that.” I channeled Nanny’s stern, catechism-instructor voice. It worked. Seldrine stopped castigating herself and gaped at me. “You did what you did. You can’t change what happened. You can only get over it and work to make it better. Understand?”

Speechless, she nodded.

I pulled the car into the front U-shaped driveway of the church, put it in park, and left the engine running. “By going to these meetings every day, by keeping your job and continuing with your education, you’re negating the one momentary lapse you had. You will get your kids back. I believe it. I know it in my heart.” And I meant it. “You will get through this. Focus on one day at a time. Nothing else. Okay?”

It was advice I’d given myself more than once in the past three years.

Seldrine squeezed my hand and sniffed. “Thanks, Cathy. For everything.”

I pulled her in for a hug. When I let her go, a familiar figure bounded up the front church steps to greet my parish priest, Father Duncan, at the main door.

Seldrine must have noticed me stiffen, because she pulled back and turned to look out the window. “Him,” she said. The word was filled with rancor.

“What do mean?”

“Mac.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“How do you know his first name?”

“Simple. I don’t know his last. Anonymous, remember?”

It took me a moment.

“Wait. You mean…?” My gaze shot to the front steps again. Frayne stepped into the church with my priest.

“Yeah. He’s a Friend of Bill, like me. What? You didn’t know?”

“I had no idea.”

“Huh. I figured you’d sent him to, you know, keep an eye on me. Make sure I actually went into the meetings and not cut out after you dropped me off.”

I stared at her. Hard. “I would never do that, Seldrine. I trust you.”

An embarrassed rose colored her cheeks.

“So he’s been at the same meetings as you?”

“Yup. Doesn’t talk much. Share, you know? Father Duncan tries to get him to testify, but—” She shrugged. “He listens mostly. Stuck in his head. You know?”

Frayne to a T.

“You’d better get inside,” I said. “You can’t be late.”

The frigid air blasting through the open door when she got out of my car shot right to my bone marrow.

After she entered the church, I drove to my office.

Martha greeted me with hugs and condolences ( Maureen had called to tell her about George) and a notice that one of the guardianship cases I’d been working on had developed a snag. I made a quick call to Lucas and then the courthouse.

The rest of the day was filled with client appointments and writing briefs for upcoming cases. I made it through most of it on a fairly even keel, not letting my thoughts drift to George. The moment I walked back into my house, though, it all came back.

There was such a huge difference between being alone and being lonely. While I was used to being alone with just my dog for company, I was never lonely. Even after Danny died, I could truthfully say I was content by myself. George was a companion—a silent one to be sure—but always there in the background with me. I wasn’t alone.

And now I was.

The tears I’d been able to keep contained all day broke free. In the shower, I let them fall without constraint. After climbing into bed without dinner, my head hurt too much with emotions barreling through it, so I simply closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Three days after George died, I was better able to deal with my loss and didn’t feel like crying every other second. My sisters had both texted me daily, and Maureen had dropped off a week’s worth of food while I’d been at the office.

Friday morning dawned, and I replayed the busy day’s schedule in my head. Within an hour after I was showered and dressed, I was standing back in Asa Dupont’s courtroom. As I was mentally preparing how I wanted to argue the case, I received a text.

—Are you free to go over the Heaven artifacts?—Frayne wrote. It was the first time I’d heard from him since he’d left my house the day George died.

—In court. Don’t know how long I’ll be.—

After I hit send, Asa walked into the courtroom, and I shut my phone to silent mode.

When we were done, I left the courtroom to find Frayne out in the hallway.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” I said. “I figured you’d be working at the museum.”

“I was hoping to spend some time today going through Robert’s things, and I was wondering if you’d allow me to do it at your house while you’re working.”

“My house?”

“Yeah. I’ve exhausted everything in the public files, but I haven’t wanted to bother you. I wanted to give you some space, but I can’t go any further with the archival stuff. I realize you’re supposed to be present at all times when I go through any personal property, but I thought since the stuff isn’t officially logged in yet, maybe you’d make an exception. I realize it’s asking a lot, but…”

I knew I shouldn’t. If Clara Johnson ever found out I’d let someone go through items unsupervised, I’d never hear the end of it. But I was tied up all day and this unexpected court visit had put me back several hours.

“Sure,” I told him.

Surprise kicked the shadows out of his eyes.

“There’s a spare key under the sconce on the outside garage wall. It lets you in through the kitchen door. Everything is still in the dining room.”

He stuffed his hands into his coat pocket. “You don’t mind? Me being in your house without you?”

I shook my head.

“You won’t get…in trouble with the historical society if you’re not with me, overseeing my work?”

I wanted to say what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them (or me) but thought better of it and simply said, “It’s fine. Do me a favor and don’t remove anything from the house, okay? We still need to get it all catalogued.”

“I promise I won’t.”

An awkward silence blossomed between us.

“Okay,” he finally said. “I’ll let you get back to work. Thank you.”

He gave me a tense head bob and then walked away. After a few steps, he stopped, turned and, over his shoulder said, “Thank you,” again.